Tracking the River
It is a mighty river
Galloping like wild horses over the stones
Tumbling in torrents from sparkling thrones
White with the majesty of the sky.
I saw it rushing, leaping, laughing
Around bends, carving its presence
On the massive body of the land
I climbed up the scraggy face
Of bearded cliffs
Defying the rivers direction
Haunted by a desire inside
To come to its beginning.
Look what we built from mind alone
A universe with matter from stars' gas
Matter hard as stone
Swollen, swollen with our fancy's heat
Soon I reached a path
Where the river in four divide
And followed larger coarse up
And for each new divide I did the same
Until only trickle there remain
And tall trees that covered me from the sky
And big leaves that at midday dark
Just would not cease to cry.
Like single drop of tears
Each leaf drips
And drips
Water by drops from the forest lips
And no river was here
Just the wet flesh of earth
A cold place,
Sparse as a manger
And everything longing to be born
Pause and ponder the umbilical germ
The remotely ancient origin of egg and sperm
When is the beginning of all existence
Then we drip away, one by one, and children the only evidence of our dust.
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